


Empty Space

by haseelo



Category: K-pop, Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Angst, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 08:32:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13520493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haseelo/pseuds/haseelo
Summary: Changkyun wakes up feeling lighter than a feather, as though he's soaring high above the sky. It's a shame that feeling doesn't last very long.





	Empty Space

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning for death and suicide! 
> 
> In no way do I condone suicide or self-harm. I firmly believe that we were given this life because we're strong enough to see it through to the end. If you're struggling, please talk to someone! Sometimes all you need to do is ask! 

Changkyun gets up, feeling surprisingly better than he has in days. No lethargy, no fatigue. He feels light on his feet, light as a feather, as though the slightest gust of wind could blow him up into the sky. Getting up this morning seems less like a chore than it usually does. Repetitive, yes, in the sense that he does everything he usually does, but not dull. He takes a quick shower, washes his face, brushes his teeth, and gets dressed properly. But it doesn’t seem quite as dull as it typically does.

Journeying into the kitchen, he finds Jooheon leaning over the counter. His cheeks are hollow and sunken, as are his eyes. It’s a sign of malnutrition and lack of sleep, he knows this all too well. Concerned, he approaches the other quietly, “Are you alright?”

There’s no response. As though Jooheon was in his own world, his voice going unheard. Changkyun knows this will only worsen if left alone, so he makes to place his hand on his friend’s shoulder, when he spies another figure in his peripheral, appearing from the direction of the bedrooms and heading towards the living room. Minhyuk’s feet seem to be leaden, his slippers dragging along the wooden floorboards with a loud, scratching sound.

 _What is with everyone today?_ Was there something he had missed? Why was everyone suddenly so lethargic? He watches as Minhyuk reaches the end of the sofa, curling himself on the end seat and laying his head on the armrest. His eyes and the area around them are tinged pink. He’s been crying. Changkyun looks from Jooheon to Minhyuk, real worry setting in. “What’s going on?” he asks, loud enough for both of them to hear.

Neither respond. He may as well not be there at all.

The front door opens, and four figures clad in black suits come in. Their eyes are tired, signs of grief all over their faces and posture. Their motions, though not nearly as lifeless as Minhyuk‘s, are definitely less energetic than normal. They seem almost mechanical, like their movements are automated with their minds elsewhere. The whole place seems to be engulfed in some sort of negative energy, and it makes Changkyun very nervous. Just how long had he been asleep for to miss what was going on? And why had nobody woken him up if it was as devastating as it seemed?

Nobody seems to pay him any mind, Kihyun heading right past him to pour himself a cup of coffee, and Wonho wrapping an arm around Minhyuk’s shoulders as he takes a seat beside him.

“What is going on?” he asks again, this time letting the anger leaking into his voice. But it’s justified, he thinks. He _is_ angry, angry that nobody cared enough to tell him what was going on, and why they were in such a mood. But again, nobody even spares a glance his way. Angry tears slowly fill his eyes and he turns to put his hand on Jooheon’s shoulder, intent on spinning the guy around to force an answer out.

Instead, Changkyun’s hand closes in on his shoulder.

And passes through it.

He instinctively stumbles forwards to catch himself before he fell. Straightening, he stares at his hand in horror. It _looks_ normal, as normal as his hand could look. “Jooheon,” he says quietly, voice wavering, unsteady. He reaches out again, the tips of his fingers trembling. His hand lands on nothing, falling right through the other’s shoulder, like Jooheon didn’t exist. And when the first tear drops from his eye, it’s out of fear and dread rather than anger.

“We need to clear out his room.”

 _Shownu_.

Shownu’s voice brings him back, as listless as it is, and he spins on his heel to face his friend, eyes pleading for some semblance of an explanation to be brought to this madness. But Shownu doesn’t see him. Their eyes don’t connect. Changkyun watches the other walk past the kitchen doors, towards the bedrooms.

It finally hits him then, and it comes with frightening force, like a collision with a freight train.

“No,” his voice is barely audible, even to his own ears. Tears blur most of what he can see, but Changkyun is able to stumble out of the kitchen doorway, to follow Shownu into the last room on the right. The room he had emerged from earlier.

His room.

He feels paralyzed, unable to move, unable to process the implications of what was happening. It’s not until he sees Kihyun and Hyungwon walk through him and into the living space, that it snaps Changkyun into the impossibility of all this. Two steps inside and a quick glance around triggers the first of a line of terrible memories. He’s normally very tidy; a place for everything, and everything in its place. 

But the second drawer of his bedside table is open. His bedsheets are lying in a crumpled heap on the floor, like they were thrown off in a hurry. And an open bottle with its cap next to it sits on the bedside table. Changkyun doesn’t need to take a closer look to know exactly what it is. He remembers that part.

He knows what happened next.


End file.
